


The Space Between

by reina_randwulf



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, Murder Husbands, Original Character Death(s), architect au, everyone is an architect, except Freddie Lounds, of course there's murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reina_randwulf/pseuds/reina_randwulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham, architecture critic, was asked to make writing on an award winning architect, Hannibal Lecter. His effort to uncover the famous architect led him to find another side of Hannibal Lecter that was hidden deep beneath his facade<br/>or Hannibal TV Series in architecture alternate universe</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have this crazy architect!au fic after I saw these [Mads Mikklesen’s photographs](http://www.gq.com/style/wear-it-now/201307/mads-mikkelsen-in-the-new-brown-suit#slide=1). And the whole ‘this is my design’ thing? It’s like begging me to write an architect!au fic! I’m not really familiar with how design studio goes in UVa so I mostly wrote it based on how it’s done in my uni. This is my first Hannibal fic. I like playing with this au, just let’s see how this is going. Not beta-ed, hoped it will turn out to be ok  
> I made Hannibal wore glasses because my friend asked me to (definitely not because all successful architects wear glasses)

Will Graham looked carefully at presentation board in front of him. Beside the presentation board there stood a young girl, Marissa Schur, saying something about her design for her client the Marlow family, a young family consists of John Marlow and his wife Theresa Marlow. She had some rendered images of her design and a small but well built model. Marissa has a quite ambitious design, completely changing the façade of the house to make it what she claimed to be more ‘modern’. Marlow house that had a typical suburban house façade is now has a big glass window from the first floor up to the second floor. So they have more light coming into the house, Marissa said. She took the chance to make the house smaller than its original size so they could have bigger yard at the back of their house. She gave them a bigger yard because Mrs. Marlow liked to do a little gardening in her free times.

Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Soon the voice of Marissa and the rest of design studio 1 were muted. The only sound he heard was a soft ambient pulse that soothed his nerves. Behind his closed eyelids, he saw a pendulum swing once, twice, and then he could see himself standing in front of Marlow house. Marlow house is no different than the other house around here. Will sighs again and sees the pendulum swings again and now the new design by Marissa Schur replaced the original house of Marlow family. Suddenly there is this small house with big glass panel among the modest farmhouse. Will winced a bit at the sight in front of him.

“I think by giving the house a very different façade will make the house stands out more. It does stand out from the other house but it breaks the harmony within the neighborhood. The unity that is one of the appeals of the neighborhood environment has broken. It looks like an alien. Instead of making the house ‘stands out’ it looks ‘out of place’.”

Will stepped closer to the house. There’s Mrs. Marlow attending the flowers with so much care at the front yard. Will heard a car approaching the house so he turned his head and finds Marlow’s car stopsped at the carport. And there’s Mr. Marlow coming home with a big smile in his face. Mrs. Marlow stopped tending the flowers and welcomed her husband with a small kiss. This house had front yard and backyard. The new front yard has the same size as the original yard while the back becomes bigger. Will looked at the couple at the yard who is chatting happily. This couple doesn’t have a child but they wanted to, two children they hoped. Will tries to picture a child around Mr and Mrs. Marlow and there they were, two faceless kids playing at the front yard. But the yard was too small for them so they had to retreat to the backyard. The two phantom kids disappeared from Will’s sight. He turned his head back to the couple who were walking towards the house. He looked back at the front yard, at the carefully arranged flowers.

“I want to give her a bigger yard so she could plant more flowers. But flowers are meant to be admired. I should have made the front yard bigger, not just Mrs. Marlow can plant more flowers, it will enable the children to play here with her.”

Will stepped inside the house. The house wasn’t very big but the lack of wall at the first floor created the impression that the house was bigger than its actual size. The only walls that presented here were the walls of a small restroom. The big glass window makes the living room to be brighter and warmer. He looked at the finishing touch Marissa chose for the house.

“I use book shelves as the only physical boundary between living rooms and dining room and kitchen counters as the boundary between dining room and kitchen... I choose warm color for the Marlow because it suits their character. I can see the flowers from the living room. Mrs. Marlow can enjoy her garden from the inside. From here I can see clearly to the road. Can people from the street see through the window? This can lead to privacy issue.”

He inspected the ventilation and heat system of the newly designed house. He imagined the house throughout summer, fall, winter, and spring. He shuddered at the thought of the carelessly planned air circulation system and the heating problem that would occurred in the future.

A quick trip to second floor brought him to the master bedroom, a small bedroom for two beds, and a study. The study was for Mr. Marlow and it had the same big window. Will could see Marissa poured so much in designing the interior of the house. The color she chose didn’t hurt his eyes. But the placement of the furniture still needed improvement.

“This big… glass window... I designed it to be the main focus of the house, the plus value. But Mr. Marlow works at the house at night. The purpose of the window to make the room brighter has lost its meaning. It’s just… ugly.”

Will sat at Mr. Marlow’s big chair and running his hands on the desk.

“This is my first time designing something at this scale. I want to impress my professor and I strive to get a good score. I want an A so I pour my best into it. This is my design.”

Will closed his eyes as he feels himself drifting back to the reality.

“But not for the Marlow.”

When Will opened his eyes, he’s staring at the presentation board. Marissa Schur had stopped talking sometimes ago. She’s standing nervously beside her presentation board. Will carefully avoids her eyes when he starts his assessment. Marissa was his last student he reviewed today for design studio 1 crit so he really wanted it to be quick. He’s really tired after spending hours to listen to these undergraduate students trying to explain their design for their first studio assignment.

“Ms. Schur, when you design something, you design it for the user of the building not for yourself.” Will began. He saw her shoulder twitched nervously. “This is your design but it is not for your client. It only shows your ego. I doubt the Marlows want to live here. Have you asked yourself that question? When you design it, have you asked yourself whether your client want to actually live here? Architecture is not a mere art. In architecture, the subject matters. You have to think about the client.”

Marissa opened her mouth in order to defend her design but Will gave him no chance to do that. He’s not really in the mood to listen to her poor excuse to defend herself.

“Have you read ABC of Architecture?” Will asked. He didn’t really like to quote that book since it oversimplified architecture but he didn’t say he actually disagreed with the book either “Utilitas, Firmitas, Venustas. Function, structure and beauty. You put too much effort on the venustas but you forget about the other two. Well, structure is not really important in this course, I bet you can’t answer it if I ask you how to install the glass window. By the way, the window is ugly. Tell me, is this a house for actual human being or it’s just a show house without people actually living inside it?”

Marissa didn’t say anything to reply him. She’s just gaping when she heard that, probably she’s still taken aback with Will’s comment on the window. She watched in silent horror as Will grabbed his red pen and walked to the presentation board. He crossed everything he didn’t like and made some correction. She’s in the verge of crying when Will finished correcting her drawings. She certainly didn’t sleep for more than two days to do all this but it’s a normal thing when you’re an architecture student. Will remembered he once didn’t sleep for four days straight and worked since dawn to dawn to prepare his final crit.

“Do you understand, Ms. Schur? Don’t forget the people who use your building. Architecture is not about the architect. It’s not about your ego. What good is your design if people can’t use it? It applies to all of you. Make something your client needs, not what you want. Make a better design for next assignment. Show me your design. You’re dismissed.”

Will put his red pen back to his pocket and took off his glasses once the students left him then he started writing his assessment for Marissa Schur. Her design wasn’t actually bad and he gave extra points for her effort to digitalize her design. He could hear some of the students talked about him behind his back and he could feel it that Marissa was in verge to tear just before they were dismissed. He saw a dark haired girl came to Marissa and tried to calm her down. That girl sent him a very murderous glare when she thought Will wasn’t looking. Well, he’s not really a favorite professor at School of Architecture here at University of Virginia. But then again he didn’t really want to be a favorite professor.

“Have you finished your assessment, Professor Graham?”

Speaking of favorite professor…

“Still on it.” Will said without taking his eyes from the assessment papers.

“Will…”

Will sighed, put his pen down, and looked up to address Alana Bloom while subtly avoiding her eyes, the coordinating faculty of design studio 1. She looked lovely as usual. She always looked lovely, one of the reasons why she’s one of students’ favorite professors. She’s calm, patient, knew how to handle stubborn oblivious students, and well… pretty. She’s one of Will’s few friends and Will was willing to help her, even though it meant giving critic for her studio. It’s just midterm crit so Alana had specifically asked the critics to be ‘gentler’ and gave constructive critic instead of the usual harsh words that did more harm to the student’s confidence than actually helping them with their design. That’s why a lot of students liked Alana. She always chose her words carefully.

“I see Marissa cried after her presentation. Her friend is trying to calm her down.” Alana said disapprovingly. Will still could feel her friend’s glare on his back.

“I didn’t say anything hurtful.” Will said.

“You don’t need words to actually hurt their feelings.” Alana looked closer at one of the presentation boards. “I see you ‘fixed’ their work.”

“You told me to give constructive critic so I did.” Will explained. He still remembered the look on all students he reviewed today when he made giant X mark in angry red ink on Elise Nichols’ works. He took pity on her when he saw her face afterwards but he didn’t say anything and continued to his next student.

“You don’t have to make someone cries, Will. It’s their first crit.” Alana says again.

“The one who gave my first crit told me that my design was like masturbation because I was the only one who enjoyed and liked it. Then he told me to call my mother to tell her that she wasted her money enrolling me into architecture school.”

Alana chuckled when she heard that, “Well mine asked for matches because he wanted to burn my model. Apparently he was sure I was on drug when I made it. I nearly cried that time.”

Will tried to imagine young Alana Bloom, still fresh to architecture world, eyes wet and tried so hard to fight the urge to cry. It was years ago. Now she’s one of America’s top woman architect, a senior architect in top architecture firm, and also a loveable faculty whom students adored. In the mean time, Will Graham was an architecture professor specializing in theory and critic with social anxiety issue. He was once a notable critic. Once.

“So, what do you think about the students. Still got hope for their final crit?” Alana asked him.

“Most of them are designing a house, not a home. There’s a difference between a house and a home. Sadly, they don’t know the difference between them. I wonder why…”

“Are you questioning my teaching method, Professor Graham?” Alana sounded a little bit amused, for the lack of better word.

“I’m not questioning your teaching method. The purpose of design studio is for the students to apply what they have learnt in the other classes into making a design. Well of course there are basic lectures about design during the studio time…” Will finished writing his assessment and handed to Alana.

Alana received the paper with a small smile then she said, “Jack called me. He asked me why you didn’t answer his call.”

Will groaned softly under his breath. Jack as in Jack Crawford, the chief editor of Architecture Uncovered magazine, AU for short. AU was a two monthly magazine for design professionals that featured a deep discussion about design, material, and environment. It’s actually a good reading but Will didn’t have any intention joining them. Crawford had been calling Will since last week asking him to write an article for him. Will had rejected him when he first called him and rudely turn off the phone before Jack could explain anything to him. Will wasn’t interested to do a writing job at the moment. Probably never.

“He called you. Why?” Will asked.

“Jack knows we’re pretty close.” Alana explained and quickly added when she noticed Will’s questioning look, “We worked together before. He’s doing an article on one of my projects. I understand he can be very persistent with what he wants.”

“Are you that close with him that he decided to use you against me?” Will asked again.

“What are you suggesting?” Alana asked with a raised eyebrow.

Will snorted, “You think I don’t know when you’re lying to me, Alana? Really?”

Alana’s calm face broke a little when Will successfully called her lie then she just sighed, “Ok, I admit it. I was the one who recommend you to Jack.”

Will stared at her with mouth hanging in disbelief, “What?”

“You are a great critic. You’ve done numerous reaches on architecture and its users and wrote several journals and books. Some national newspapers asked you personally to write for their architecture column as you can engage non architect readers to understand. It’s such waste to see that talent goes untouched. AU is a highly recommended magazine. It’s a good start for you if you want to start writing critic again. I think you’re ready to be back.”

Will couldn’t help but felt a little bit agitated by Alana’s intervention on his life. He knew Alana was just trying to help but she had crossed the boundary. He turned his head to avoid Alana’s gaze and felt the urging need to build up a shield around him. “You’re not my psychiatrist.”

“I remember you told me that Dr. Lass said that hiding behind your trauma won’t help you.” Alana said. “It’s been two years since that happened.”

That. He started to feel a little bit nervous as he remembered something he didn’t really want to remember. He could feel it started creeping beneath his skin and gnawing him slowly. That. That blood on his hand. That lifeless body in front of him. That sadistic smile.

“Can we not talk about that?” Will asked.

Alana offered him a small smile than patted him on his shoulder. Will fought the urge to shrug her hand off because Alana was a friend. He didn’t like to be touched in general but he learnt to make exception with friends. It tended to help those around him to feel accepted by him.

“See you later, Will.”

Will watched in silence as Alana walked away from him. Will let out a heavy sigh and slumped on his seat. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his nerves. The more he tried the more he remembered the way Garrett Jacob Hobbs looked at him. He remembered how he smiled. He remembered it all.

_“See?”_

Will came out from his reverie with a loud gasp. He’s lucky no one’s around to see him trembling from fear. He tried to calm his nerves and waited until his breath was steady. Then he got up, put his glasses back, and walked away from the studio. He tried to ignore the gaze of passing students and faculties as he made his way back to his office. He quickly shut himself in his office and took aspirin from his drawers. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe hard. No one’s here, he’s alone. He’s at Campbell Hall, University of Virginia. It’s a little bit past 1 PM. His name’s Will Graham.

He let out a relief sigh when he found no one standing in his office when he opened his eyes.

***

Will didn’t see himself as antisocial even though many had accused him to be one. It’s true he’s lacking on social skill and tended to avoid any social interaction if he could but it’s simply because his empathy. It’s not comfortable to get affected with other people’s emotion. When he’s a child, it scared him but as he got older, he got annoyed and decided to build barriers around him. It took years for him to teach himself to stop looking and stop attuning to his surroundings so he could get comfortable when he’s with other people. But he couldn’t just turn his empathy off at will. Sometimes he just knew what people thought without really looking into their heads. Just like when he knew someone was lying to him. He just knew even though he couldn’t know it for sure if he didn’t looked deeper.

Will tended to avoid looking deeper into something as it might affected him. But sometimes it was needed and he had to really look in order to know and understand. Combined with his active and wild imagination, he could picture it in his head in order to understand it more. Using this skill in his line of work as an architecture critic, he could imagine the perfect image of someone’s design in his head and completely understood why they did that and what they’re trying to achieve. He looked, he observed, then he connected all of it and evaluated. Then a critic was made.

“Look and observe. Connect with the people who use the building. Evaluate. Then tell me what lies behind the architect’s design. See you all next week.”

Will saw his students started to pack their things and moving out from his class. He too started to pack his things and headed back to his office. Then he saw someone coming into his nearly emptied classroom, a man with dark skin and graying short hair. Will have met him before during a magazine social event and some architectural lectures and exhibitions. It’s Jack Crawford. He was once a practicing architect before he decided to pursue writing career and worked in one of the best architectural magazines across the States. His critic tended to be very honest, sometimes harsh and ruthless, but good. Will quickly drew out his glasses and adjusted it so the rim would strategically blocked Jack from his line of view. He tended to do it when he felt nervous, which meant almost every time.

 “Mr. Graham. I’m Jack Crawford, chief editor of Architecture Uncovered.” Jack gave him a false smile and offered his hand which Will took it because he felt it would be rude if he ignored the man completely.

“We’ve met.” Will said. 

“Yes. We had a disagreement regarding Norman Foster’s works.” Jack tried to make a small talk, bringing up their past argument when they met at a discussion about architecture nowadays and its direction.

“I disagree with what you nicknamed him.” Will continued to pack his things. “It’s a little hammy, Jack.”

Jack looked up to the screen near Will’s teaching podium, “I see you’ve hitched your horse to teaching post, and I also understand that it is hard for you to be social.”

“Well,” Will avoided Jack’s gaze nervously, “I’m just talking to them. I’m not listening to them. It’s not social.”

“I see.”

Jack was still observing him with his keen eyes, making Will more nervous. The professor turned his face here and there and hoped Jack would get bored at him and left. But of course luck wasn’t at his side.

“May I?”

Suddenly Jack’s fingers found their way to Will’s glasses and pushed it up so the rim wouldn’t block his sight anymore. Jack didn’t look insulted or offended. In fact he looked amused. Will felt like a trapped animal all of sudden.

“You can empathize with the architects and the users.” Jack suddenly said.

“I can empathize with everybody.” Will mumbled. He didn’t like where this was going. He untied his tie nervously and shoved the ugly black tie that didn’t match with his shirt to his briefcase.

Jack suddenly caught his hand, causing Will’s breath to hitch, “Can I… borrow your imagination?”

Will gulped and still stubbornly avoiding Jack’s eyes while he pulled his hand away from Jack’s grip, “I’ve told you on the phone, I’m not interested.”

“I haven’t told you about what I would like you to do.”

“Not interested.” Will took his briefcase and was ready to go.

“Alana thought you will be interested.”

Will groaned. He now knew the name who was responsible for this mess, “And why she thought that I would be interested?”

“Territory: How People Behave in Public.”

Will now understood why Alana recommended him to Jack and why Jack pursued him like this. He had done research on human behavior in public places. He had published journals in that area as well. And regarding territory, it’s not an unfamiliar topic for him. He’s aware that he showed a great deal of territorial behavior to shut people away from his comfort zone.

“Maybe you will be more comfortable if we discuss it further in your office?” Jack suggested.

Of course Will would be more comfortable in his office. It’s his territory after all. People tended to feel more powerful in his territory. “Follow me.”

Together the two men left the classroom and went to his office. Along the way they encountered many architecture students carrying their studio works who obviously in dire needs of sleep. Will reminisced his days as a student. He lived a simple life back then albeit a hectic one. There was just studio. No need to deal with people like Jack Crawford, nagging him to write for him or whatever it was he wanted from him. He’s lucky enough to never deal with needy client in his line of works. There’s a reason why he chose critics rather than becoming practicing architect.

“Eight selected projects, all in different scale and place.” Jack explained, causing Will’s attention to snap back to the other man. “A small park, an installation in open public space, a gate to a high profile residence… I was hoping you can give your insight on one of the projects.”

“We’re not in my office yet.” they made a quick turn into faculty quarter.

“I’d like to give you a head start, Will,” Jack said, “it’s ok to call you Will, right?”

Will didn’t look at him, “Whatever suits you best.”

They arrived at his office much to Will’s relief. His office was in deep green color, something to relax his eyes. There were a few personal affects in the office. The wall was bare from paintings saved from a small painting of boat floating the ocean that belonged to the previous professor who occupied thi office before him. He didn’t hang his certificates unlike his colleagues. There’s a large plant at the corner of the room from Alana because she thought his office was too empty. There was bookshelves and small cupboard to keep his books and things. Will quickly sat on his comfortable black leather chair behind his average size desk displaying all of papers he needed to grade. On the opposite of the desk there’re two cheap folding chairs that were not built for comfort. He chose those chairs as a statement to his visitors that their presence wasn’t warmly accepted. Jack seemed to notice judging by his expression when he saw those chairs. He was polite enough to say nothing about it.

“So, Will. Can we discuss my offer to you now?” Jack asked. Always impatient.

“Just make it quick.” Will opened his briefcase to take his things out. “Although I must say, you’re wasting your time here, Jack. I’m not interested.”

“Eight selected projects.” Jack pulls out his ipad and opened the folder where he stored all pictured of of the said selected projects. Then he gave it to Will. “All by respectable architects. All showing an influence on territorial behavior.”

Will looked at one of projects and found a zoo concept, “A zoo?”

“Territorial behavior is more apparent in animals. This zoo can accommodate the animals need for territory so that’s why we choose it.”

“You have to manipulate how people move without disturbing the animal’s territory. Animals in zoo tend to get stressed easily because they feel cornered and because many neglected their need for distance.”

“People always want to get closer to the animals despite the danger they posses.” Jack added.

It’s an interesting choice actually, “Can I…”

“No. I have already had someone to cover that.” Jack said calmly. “I need you to connect with people, Will, not with animals.”

“I’ve told you I’m not interested.” Will browsed the photo again. Then his attention fell unto a picture of a gate of a high class residence. At first glance it looked like a pair of black elegant hands welcoming people to drive into it but upper closer inspection, it was series of black probably granite columns in difference size aligned to create the illusion.

“Oh that’s a complex gate design proposal for residence complex in Asia. Making a prestigious gate for a high class residence it one of territorial behavior. The marking of territory. The gate must represent the society in general and leaves a strong impression.”

“Strong enough to make people stay away from it.” Will commented.

This gate, although it created an illusion of hands welcoming people to come inside the residence, it also created another quality. If one looked closely, the welcoming gate looked like hands that would crush you to death if you dared to step inside. Probably a warning for those who didn’t live there. Will looked at it closely. Yes, definitely a warning. The message was clear, ‘you don’t belong here, stay away or I will crush you’.

“It’s a warning.” Will commented dryly.

“What’s a warning?” Jack asked.

“This gate.” Will gave the ipad back to Jack. “It’s more like warning than a welcoming gate. It’s taunting those lesser people who can’t afford to live there.”

Jack looked amused at hearing Will’s insight, “This gate won the first prize in a international competition. They said the gate warmly received people back home. It represents the community as one, solid and warm.”

Will snorted. He didn’t know how people could be oblivious with the hidden message. “Oh yes, Jack. It is receiving people back with open hands. But there’s more into it. There’s another reason why the designer chose black granite with sharp edges like this. It’s a warning for those who is not the part of the society. Whoever designed this gate has a very twisted humor.”

“Twisted humor?” Jack asked. “Isn’t it your specialty, Will? Uncovering an architect’s twisted humor?”

Will’s body tensed suddenly. Uncovering an architect’s twisted humor was the one that got him into the mess called Gareth Jacob Hobbs. Calling him a tasteless architect with sadistic humor was the reason why he had to go through all those nightmares for a whole year.

“Will, are you okay?”

Will’s eyes snapped opened, he’s not aware he closed it at the first place. He felt cold sweat on his face.  He quickly readjusted his glasses position and stared at anything but the man sitting across him. He then started fumbling with his things inside his briefcase.

“I’m fine.” he lied.

Jack didn’t believe him but he didn’t press the matter any further.“Seeing that you can see through the design in such way, why don’t you write about it? In fact I want you to write about the architect behind it. This will be a nice challenge for you.”

“Excuse me?” Will asked.

“This gate is designed by Lecter + partners.”

Will stopped fumbling with his things and looked at Jack, “Hannibal Lecter?”

“Yes, Hannibal Lecter. You know him right? No one has done any justice when writing about Lecter’s work. They are all artistic, beautiful, but like you said they have a hidden thing that no one can really uncover it. Think you can uncover Lecter?”

Will was actually chuckling now. Of course he knew about Hannibal Lecter. His one of the most celebrated architects now. He’s an award winning architect and had won numerous amount of competition. Will didn’t know why he found it amusing. “You want me to write about a starchitect.”

Jack looked very serious and didn’t share Will’s amusement, “Yes, Will. I want you to write about a starchitect.”

“You know what happened the last time I wrote about a starchitect.” Will was in the verge to laugh manically now. He managed to hold it.

“Not all famous architects are psychopaths, Will.” Jack said.

Will really wanted to laugh at that statement, “How do you know? You’re an architecture writer not a criminal profiler.”

“Well, I don’t.” Jack said.

There’s silence wrapping the both of them for a moment. Will quickly averted his gaze from Jack. He’s not feeling comfortable now.

“So? Interested?” Jack asked again. “I can get an exclusive interview if you want. It’s only in Baltimore, Maryland. If you want to do it, it would help people to understand.”

Will sighed heavily. He didn’t want this but something tingling inside him. The hidden message intrigued him. He’s a little bit curious actually. And yes, it would help people to understand more about Lecter’s work. Hannibal Lecter was idolized among architects. The Lithuanian architect who based his works in the States had made such impact not only on American architecture but also on international scale. His firm was one of the best. Will hadn’t had the chance to study his works and it’s the chance.

Will finally nodded his head, “I’ll do it.”

Jack gave him a real pleased smile this time and reached out to shake Will’s hand, “I will help you if you need my help.”

Will felt like he’s agreeing to a devil when he’s shaking hands with Jack Crawford.

***

Architecture was a very complex practice. Architecture was not just a mere product of beauty but also a product of complex set of study combined into making a grand design that could shelter people who dwelled in it and amazes those who looks at it in the distance. Not only it is the practice of art but it is also a practice of engineering. It also includes psychology, philosophy, politic, sociology, technology and many more.  It’s all about creating the right quality of space to generate a specific experience to influence people.

Some people compared being an architect was like playing God in smaller scale. Architect designed the space, the essential aspect of human life. Human lived in space. Each living was space and had its space. Our body generated space. We were indeed the space. And it’s by the hand of architect people relied their space to be defined, to be molded as the architect’s wish. Most people weren’t aware of how much power an architect had to shape their characters. It’s like playing with life. A little flaw in the design and system could collapse. Like what happened in Pruitt Igoe. Its flaw in understanding human psychology had turned the occupants of the award winning apartment complex into criminals. It was the proof that a design can makes people life better or drives them mad.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lecter, this design is really great but there’s still something that doesn’t really work for me.”

After practicing as an architect for a long time, it’s not hard for Hannibal to remain calm and represses the urge to kill his current client for his rude comment toward his design. Franklyn Froideveaux was his newest client. It’s a little bit hard to believe that this neurotic man in front of him was lawyer. After consulting to 9 different architects, he finally came to Lecter + Partner to seek for a better design for his law firm. He had a specific requirement for his office building but he had yet able to communicate it to his previous architects.

Hannibal’s lips formed a soft smile when he said, “I understand. If there is something that doesn’t suit your liking, I will be eager to remove it.”

“It’s just…” Froideveaux said, “what did you tell me about the façade?”

Hannibal’s face remained stoic as he tries to repress his urging exasperation. They had met two days ago to discuss Hannibal’s early concept for his firm. Froideveaux had told him during their first meeting that he wanted the building to represent his work as a lawyer, to handle the mess and make it all clear. Froideveaux of course didn’t say how exactly he wanted it to be represented.

“Organized chaos.” Hannibal told him. He then took his early sketch for the building façade and laid it on the table separating him and Franklyn. “I use thick concrete frames to frame windows and using different masses to create the effect of chaos. As you can see, some of it frame two or three stories while these ones are framing just a small portion of the building façade. But there is order behind it to maintain the balance between minimalism and expressionism. You want something to represent your work so I chose this. The organized chaos.”

Hannibal studied the man in front of him carefully. Froideveaux seemed happy with his concept two days ago. But he had doubt now. He always had doubt. It took Hannibal 2 concept ideas until Franklyn was satisfied. He’s already doing the site plan and floor plan now. If Franklyn decided to go back to concept phase, Hannibal would consider the possibility to kill this troublesome client.

He’s not joking about the killing part.

“Yes, yes, the concept is great, Mr. Lecter. But…” the mighty ‘but’, the word every architect dreaded to hear. “Don’t you think it’s… a little bit dull?” 

 “Dull?” if there’s a subtle change in Hannibal’s tone, Froideveaux didn’t notice it.

“The color… It’s not… really exciting…” Froideveaux winced a bit when he said that. He’s referring the lack of brighter color in the design. Hannibal used two colors for the façade, black and white.

“This is a design for a law firm, Mr. Froideveaux.”

“Franklyn. Please call me Franklyn.” Froideveaux’s attempt to be friendly was not something Hannibal really appreciated.

“This is a design for a law firm, Franklyn.” Hannibal repeated. “It is a place for the law worker not a place of those who seek for entertainment. Bright exciting color like red or yellow presents a lighter energetic mood while calm cool color like blue generates the false sense of tranquility. I know it will be naïve to say that the law is black and white but the contrast between black and white is so strong and able to create the effect of struggling harmony. It is chaos but with a right handling, it can be organized.”

Franklyn frowned as he struggled to see Hannibal’s point. Hannibal waited patiently while thinking about the right food he could make from Franklyn. He’s thinking about making something with tongue.

“I guess you’re right.” Franklyn finally agreed with him.

 _Of course I am,_ “I’m glad we’re finally seeing it from the same point of view.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lecter. I don’t know why I’m so choosy. I can’t just make up my mind.” Franklyn (he insists to be called Franklyn) said. Hannibal really wondered how this man could end up being a lawyer. Was he a different man in the court room? He honestly didn’t want to know.

“I can understand the need to be very specific when it comes to a design. You are not my first client who acts like this.” Hannibal remembered another troublesome and rude client from the past. He remembered she tasted quite good.

“I hate being choosy.” Franklyn admitted.

“If you weren’t choosy, I can assure you, Franklyn, you would feel much worse when your building is finally built the way you don’t wish to be.” Hannibal added a small smile with it. “Building represents us. It is very understandable that one can be so careful when it comes to design their dream place. It is my job as an architect to design that place for you.”

 _And deciding what is the right kind of place suits you best_ , but of course Hannibal didn’t say it out loud. Hannibal watches silently as Franklyn nods his head and smiles at him. Hannibal smiles back. Of course an architect couldn’t design something without consulting it to his client. The client, after all, held the power to accept and deny the design. It’s merely a skill of an architect to convince the client that it is what best for them.

“Now, is there anything else you wish to discuss with me?” Hannibal asked politely.

“That would be all, Mr. Lecter.” Franklyn sounded satisfied. He got up from his chair with a smile on his face. “I can’t thank you enough for coping up with me.”

“It is my job to coping up with you.” Hannibal also got up from his chair. “Let me see you out.” 

Hannibal ushered Franklyn to his office door without further attempt to engage in conversation with his client. He made a mental note to finish the floor plans today so he could start doing the sections and elevations. Due to its complex tectonic mass and the limited site area, designing the floor plan had proven to be a challenging job. But Hannibal always liked a little challenge. This man beside him had given him enough challenge to keep him entertains despite his rudeness. It’s what saves him from ending up on his dinner table.

“I’ll contact you again, Franklyn. If there’s anything you wish to discuss, feel free to talk to me.”

Franklyn somehow beamed in what Hannibal described as delight, “I would gladly do so.”

Hannibal sincerely hoped he wouldn’t do that.

Hannibal watched in silence as Franklyn went out from the waiting room and headed out from his office. Hannibal looked at his watch. It’s already six PM but he was sure his employees were still working in the studio. They had a deadline soon and they wouldn’t fall behind schedule. He added ‘checking up on his employees’ to his to do list before he went home tonight. They would stay at the studio and finished their works if it’s necessary. It’s not rare for architects to pull all nighter at their studio firms as they had already done so during their years as students. Hannibal hoped they would not make a mess of his studio by cigarettes and cans of beers. He was kind enough to install a very excellent coffee maker in their studio. Their work place was also considered very comfortable with sofa beds and couches and also excellent work desks and drafting tables. It would be a shame to soil it with trashes.

Hannibal adjusted his glasses position on his nose. Most people associated successful architects with glasses and many young architects started using eyewear as a desperate statement to say that they were architects. He started using glasses when he’s younger and less successful. He didn’t use it to make him look like an architect, it’s merely because he needed it at the moment. Although his eyesight was better now and he could look just fine without glasses, he couldn’t just let them go as they had become a trademark. His glasses were custom made with elegant black round rim surrounding the lenses. Although it pained him to use the mainstream look adapted by many architects, he was quite pleased with his overall look when he wore glasses. People even started copying his glasses as it was considered a little geeky yet stylish and elegant. He felt torn between flattered and annoyed at that. Maybe it was what Le Corbusier felt when people started copying his trademark owlish glasses.

Hannibal then turned back and stepped inside his office. Hannibal’s office was designed to impress. It showed his appreciation towards beauty. Hanging on the wall there were a selection of fine paintings and photographs. There were some beautiful handcrafts as well. The originally two stories room was merged into one, leaving a small space at its second floor to serve as a private library. The high ceiling making the room seemed larger than its original size. The scale could make whoever steps into his office feels smaller. It was done to intimidate his clients in a very subtle way, making them more cooperative and less likely to say no. The room consisted of two spaces, the space for consulting and the space for designing. There is no physical boundary separating the two spaces so his client is free to look at his work space. The consulting space was for his clients and those architects he hired when they wanted to discuss their works with him. It consisted of a set of two matching black leathered couch positioned near the window. There’s a table separating them that was big enough for an A1 sized paper. His work place, his own private studio, consisted of a big mahogany desk with a computer, a drafting table, and also a drawing board. He had a harpsichord as well which he rarely touched due to his workloads.

Hannibal walked towards his desk and took his seat. He would finish the floor plan today so he took a scalpel and started sharpening his pencils. He was one of those architects who chose conventional methods. He chose sketch rather than using the 3d drawing programs. He had a perfect knowledge at using those programs but he had people to do that for him so why bothered? After he was satisfied with the sharpness of his pencil, he came back to his work. Pile of tracing papers stacked neatly at his drafting table. He’s already half done with these. He needed to give it to those junior architects then had them finishing it for him.

He then remembered he hadn’t checked his email today so he decided to withhold his work for a moment. He came to his computer and browse through his email. He might say he wasn’t surprised to see Jack Crawford of Architecture Uncovered in his inbox. That man probably asked for drawings of his firm’s works so he could publish it in AU. Hannibal was always willing to share it because it helped with publication. Good publication was a key to become a successful architect. He opened the email, thinking it would be another small favor. He wasn’t really expecting a full exclusive interview.

Hannibal frowned a bit when he read Crawford’s email. He wanted to make a column about Hannibal Lecter and his firm. Hannibal knew sometimes AU magazine did a cover up about an architect. It was such an honor to be featured in such successful like AU. Crawford stated that the article would be written by Will Graham himself. Hannibal felt the name was familiar and quickly opened a new tab to search about him. He nodded to himself when he found out why that name was familiar. It wasn’t all because he had seen that name on several journals and researches. Will Graham was the critic who killed the psychopath architects Gareth Jacob Hobbs, the Minnesota Shriek.

Hannibal reached out to a small scale model of his most celebrated work, an office building located at New York. It was made entirely by glass and very smooth when touched. He made a habit to stroke it when he was thinking. Hannibal stared at his monitor, reading the article about Will Graham’s attack. Graham was absent from journalistic area and retreated to Virginia and became a professor at University of Virginia. Many said that it was such a waste as he possessed a talent at understanding completely what behind an architect’s design and able to connect with people who used the building. It’s believed that he could empathize with people. Such a rare gift and a delicate one.

Hannibal took his glasses and put it on his desk. Then he leaned back to his chair This Will Graham wanted to interview him. He wanted to uncover his design. Could he see behind Hannibal’s façade and see the man hidden beneath it? Hannibal’s lips tugged up a bit at the thought of someone finding out his secret merely by talking to him. It was how Hobbs was discovered, by talking to Graham and exposing himself too much for the empath to see. Hannibal took the glass building in his hand and looked at it very closely. Hannibal of course wouldn’t do the same mistake. He was very careful at his other craft. Not even an FBI agent could catch him. Hannibal played with glass model absentmindedly. There’s no way Graham could see right through him.

He put the glass model down and started typing his reply to Crawford. He informed him that he was honor and would be gladly welcoming Will Graham in his office when he’s not busy. A smile plastered on Hannibal’s face when he hit the send button. Many had discussed about his works but no one had really understood and appreciated his design. Maybe Graham could do that with the help of his empathic ability? He couldn’t help but feel a little bit amused by the situation. It would be interesting if Graham could see that much. He casted one last look at Graham’s picture and smiled. Hannibal was interested to see how much Graham could see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finally met with someone from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know UVa school of architecture curriculum but let’s say the first year get History of Architecture even though they’re not from History major.

One of the professor from history of architecture got into an accident last week. Professor Jessica Gissen, a young historian who was an alumnus of UVa. A truck ran over her car during her ride back home. She’s still hospitalized and probably for a longer time so she needed someone to cover up her classes. Will was appointed to cover one of her class, History of Architecture for the undergrads. It’s for the architecture major so the class didn’t really discuss every detail of every period unlike the architectural history major so Will could cover the class just find. He’s not really a historian but he thought he could manage. The class had already reached the modern period. He could discuss some Le Corbusier or Frank Lloyd Wright just fine.

Will arrived at the class on time and found the classroom had already filled with first year architecture student. He flinched a little when he stepped into the classroom. The class was bigger than his usual class and it’s noisy. There were just too many people and too many noises. He adjusted his glasses up to his nose and took a deep breath. The class immediately went silent when they saw him. He knew he’s not really popular among the students especially among the undergrads. Only those who took theory and critic that could really appreciate him.

“Good morning, I’m your new professor. My name is Will Graham, you can call me Professor Graham. Please be silent during the lecture and don’t play with your phone, I know when you play with your phone. I don’t take questions during the lecture so keep your questions until the very end.”

Will heard they started murmuring to each other. Some of them actually cringed in horror as he made the announcement. He’s just really not popular with the undergrads as he was known for his harsh comments during crits. He didn’t care. He’s not here to make friends with his students and be social. He’s here to share his knowledge. They could hate him as much as they wanted. It’s not like it would change his life or something.

Will started his lecture with a brief introduction to Walter Gropius and Bauhaus. For the majority of the lecture, Will avoided his students’ gaze and staring at anything that didn’t have the shape of a human. He made a quite warning when he caught a girl playing with her phone. She looked really surprised when he did that. She probably thought he didn’t pay any attention to his students at all. He kept going on his lecture without any further problem and he’s glad about that.

“And so… that’s the end of the lecture.” Will finally finished his lecture. He looked at his students again. He could easily spot those who were bored during the whole lecture and those who were really listening to him and also those who were pretending to take notes but in fact they were doodling on their notebooks. Will took a deep sigh and looked at the floor, “Any questions?”

Honestly Will hoped no one would ask any question. Answering questions demanded him to talk to the students. Will tapped his fingers impatiently to the podium while looking at his students. He sighed in relief when no one asked him any question.

“No questions?” _good_. “So, for your homework-“

“Excuse me?”

Will turned his head to the source of the sound and something inside him froze. His eyes went wide when he spotted the young girl who finally had the courage to ask him a question. He felt the time stopped ticking as he looked at a strangely familiar face that was framed by braided dark hair. She was pretty and enticing but what got him was her eyes. Those clear blue eyes. Will had a habit to avoid people’s eyes so he didn’t know why made an eye contact with this girl. Those eyes… those eyes were filled something strong, something raw.

Will recognized the girl as that Marissa Schur’s friend from design studio 1. At that time he didn’t pay any attention to this girl at all. But now he really saw her and could see something inside her, something he couldn’t really tell, something that made him uncomfortable. Will broke the eye contact before he saw too much. He was afraid to see more. And of course there’s this strange familiar feeling that nagged him. He had seen her before but he couldn’t remember when.

Will realized she was asking something to him but he’s not paying attention to her words, “I’m sorry… What’s your question?”

“Why does Bauhaus consist of simple shapes and primary colors?”

“Bauhaus is an art and craft school founded after the end of world war I and based in German,” Will tried to keep his voice steady, “it was founded during the time modernism reached critical mass by one of the notable modern architect, Walter Gropius. The main influence on the school was modern industry and we should remember that it was after the war era and everything was in a mess. Europe had to survive the war. They were in dire need for fast and efficient production. Everything was simple, everything was purely for function. They couldn’t afford to spend money on something trivial so no decoration either. Bauhaus represented that soul. They had simple goal, to create something new and interesting but keep the designs simple and minimal. Every project, whether it’s house or anything, they kept it simple. Why they used primary color because it was considered pure, an utopian ideal of spiritual harmony and order.”

“So the simplicity it’s their way to cope with the destruction caused by the war?” the girl concluded.

“It’s not just the Bauhaus, all art in that era was simple. We can see it in the modern architecture. Form follows functions. Ornament is a crime. Those were the jargon of modernist architect. Sullivan, Wright, Le Corbusier, Aalto, and of course Gropius. You’ve studied Le Corbusier’s works, you know how his designs worked. It’s all in neat gridlines. Every space he made had specific function. It was in latter period when everything was more… stable when architecture became more… complex… like the brutalism or postmodernism or deconstructivism...”

“So they waited until everything went better?”

Will gulped. He didn’t know why he suddenly felt that there’s something more beneath the question this girl asked to him, “Not necessary better but… more or less…”

“And the primary color is pure? Isn’t it white that represent pureness?” she pressed. “Red is the color of blood.”

Blood. Will shuddered a bit when he thought about blood. “They abstracted the unnecessary color and ornaments to reach pureness. They settled on horizontal and vertical lines. Red is energetic color like yellow... And they used black and white as well besides the three primary colors. So… Black, white, red…”

Red.Blood.Red, the color of blood.

“Class dismissed.” Will said suddenly and pretended he didn’t see the puzzled looks on his students’ face. He forgot to give them assignment to write essay but it’s not really his concern right now. He put his thing back to his briefcase while the students went out from the classroom including that girl.

Will looked up and saw two girls were still in the class, packing their things. He came to them and asked, “Who’s that girl? The one that… asked questions… What’s her name? I didn’t catch her name…”

They were startled by Will’s question but one of them said, “That’s Abby… umm… Abigail Hobbs, right?”

Will didn’t need to hear her friend’s confirmation. After hearing that name, Will quickly headed back to his office. He almost bumped into a student who brought a big model of his project along the way. He passed him while mumbling a small apologize and quickly made his way to his office. Inside his office, he quickly took a seat and reached for his aspirin bottle. He just hoped the aspirin could ease his building headache. He still got class after lunch.

Abigail Hobbs was here at UVa.

Will closed his eyes and tried to banish the memory that started to creep into his mind. A memory of a young girl standing by the door with wide blue eyes. Those eyes that looked so much like her father’s.

“ _See?_ ”

Will’s eyes snapped opened. He swept his office with his eyes to find the nagging presence that haunted him years before. The presence of a man he knew was not real but there he was, taunting him even though he’s already dead. Will sighed in relief when he found no one and he’s alone. No one’s there. There’s no ghost of Gareth Jacob Hobbs here.

***

Will was about to go to cafeteria when he received a call from Jack. He’s tempted to ignore the call but he had already made a commitment to write for him. He settled himself on his chair and reluctantly grabbed his phone then took the call.

“You haven’t replied my emails.” Jack said without bothered to say any greetings.

“Good day to you too, Jack. How’s your lunch?” Will said instead.

“Will.” there’s a warning in Jack’s tone.

“I haven’t had the time to reply.” Will replied. He’s not lying, well not entirely. He was going to reply the email but then he was called to meeting with the history department then he kind of forgot about it.

Jack took a deep breath before he continued, “I informed you that Lecter is available for interview this Friday. I need you to know if you’re available as well. Bev already said ok.”

Will winced a little because he had no idea about this ‘Bev’, “Sorry, who?”

“Beverly Katz. The photographer. I emailed about it to you.” Jack said.

Beverly Katz, the photographer who worked with AU. Will didn’t really pay any attention to photographers actually but he heard that she’s good. Well at least that’s what Jack wrote to him in his email. He would google her up later, after lunch. Food came first. He’s starving.

“So?” Jack asked again.

He grabbed his agenda and checked his schedule for Friday, “Friday is good… if it’s not in the morning. I have class at eight.”

“Ok, I’ll inform Lecter myself. He sounds rather pleased when we talked on the phone. He’s really looking forward to meet you.”

“Is he?” Will shrugged. “Can’t say I feel the same.”

“Really? You don’t feel anything? He’s one of the most successful architects in our generation.”

“You know those starchitects type, Jack…” Will turned his head when he heard a knock on his door followed by Alana Bloom. He gestured to her to come inside and sat on the chairs. “Successful architect doesn’t necessary mean talented architect. All they need is good promotion... among other things… but mostly good promotion… and good connections…”

“He asked why you’re not the one who contacted him,” Jack said, “I told him you are busy. Please don’t be rude to him when you meet him. I got the impression that he doesn’t like rude people.”

Will gave a small smile to Alana when the other professor finally took a seat across him, “I’m not rude, Jack.”

“You are, sometimes… Well, you are rude most of times…” Jack said, “just don’t pull that glasses trick when you’re with him.”

Will snorted, “He’s not god, you know.”

“Whatever. Just be nice.”

Jack hanged up the phone. Will stared at his phone with confusion and put it back to his pocket. Now who’s rude? He looked up at Alana again and smiled.

“Jack?” Alana asked.

“Uncle Jack wants me to be nice when I finally meet the great Hannibal Lecter.” Will replied. “Why you’re here?”

“Just checking if you have had lunch or not.” Alana said. She looked at him with embarrassed look when Will laughed, “What? Is it wrong to care for a friend?”

Will tried so hard keep his laughter but failed, “No wonder our colleagues think we’re having an affair.”

“That rumor is ridiculous. We are just friends.” Alana groaned.

“Yeah… friends…” Will smiled amusedly at Alana, “Seriously, why are you here? Don’t lie. I thought we’ve already established that you can’t lie to me.”

Alana’s face suddenly became serious. Will suddenly felt he regretted asking that question. “I heard what happened in history class.”

Will turned his head to avoid Alana’s gaze, “Do they hate me that much so they talked about it to you? Those kids from my class are in your studio right?”

“They don’t hate you, Will. In fact, the girls find you cute and adorable.” Alana said with a smile. “I can name five girls that describe you like that.”

 “Cute?” Will winced a little. He didn’t know how to feel to find that.

“Girls like shy and handsome and _single_ professor.” Alana said. “So, I heard you got a little bit carried away when you talked to Abigail Hobbs.”

Abigail Hobbs. Will gulped and continued to avoid Alana’s eyes, “She’s Hobbs’ daughter.”

“Yes.”

“She’s Hobbs’ daughter and she’s learning architecture like her father. There are a lot of architecture schools in States and she chose here.”

“It’s not like she chose UVa because of you.”

Will wanted to laugh so he did, “I killed her father.”

They were silent for awhile after that. He kept his gaze focus on the spot on his wall, beside the boat painting. He tried so hard to push the memory of taking a man’s life. He could remember it perfectly. Blood. Agonizing screams. Blood, blood on his hand, on the knife on his hands.That smirk on Hobbs’ face, taunting him, mocking him.

_“See.”_

“She hates me.” Will said as he recalled the anger he saw in Abigail’s eyes during the history class.

“It’s been two years, Will.” Alana reminded him.

“How can you forgive someone who killed your father then disappeared? I haven’t said anything to her after that… incident.”

Alana was looking at him with concerned look that made him nervous, “It’s a self defense. Hobbs was a psychopath that was trying to kill you.”

Will turned his head back to Alana and said quietly. “You know who she is, right… she’s in your studio after all.”

Alana didn’t take her time to reply, “Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me. Why?”

“Because I don’t think it’s good for you.”

Will glared at her, “You’re not my psychiatrist.”

“I’m your friend, Will. I don’t want you to be hurt.” Alana looked genuinely concern. She always was. “Besides, what would you do if I told you about Abigail?”

Will turned his head again, avoiding Alana’s gaze, “I don’t know.”

“Exactly.” she paused. “You know what you’re going to do now? You’re going to act like everything’s normal. You don’t have to confront her. It wouldn’t be good for both of you.”

Will looked at her again, a small smile plastered to his face, “You won’t know it.”

“Don’t do anything reckless.” Alana said.

They went silent again for awhile. Will sincerely didn’t know what he would do if he went to Abigail Hobbs. He felt the need to talk to her but he didn’t know what to say. Did he want to apologize? He killed her father and made her into an orphan. He really wanted to see her after all that mess but his psychiatrist, Dr. Miriam Lass, told him that it would be better if he didn’t meet her. The last thing he knew was she lived with her distant relative. She had to leave Minnesota because no one accepted her there. Her father was the famous Minnesota Shriek and he killed girls that looked like her and fed them to her. Cannibals. Will remembered seeing those words sprayed on her house when he saw the news.

“Well, it’s time for lunch. Have you had lunch, Will?” Alana asked.

Will suddenly didn’t feel hungry anymore, “I still need to do some works.”

Alana gave him a small smile and got up from her chair, “See you later, Will.”

“Yeah, see you later.” he smiled back.

“You should buy new chairs, Will.” she said before she left his office.

Will looked at the two folding chairs across him and thought rather stubbornly that no, he wouldn’t buy new chairs because he didn’t need new chairs. Alana always told him to do so even though he had already explained the reason behind those two uncomfortable chairs. He’s not really into social visit, thank you very much. Will let his gaze lingered to the chair for a moment before he took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands.

Abigail Hobbs. She’s the daughter of Gareth Jacob Hobbs, an architect, a serial killer, and apparently a cannibal as well. The Minnesota Shriek was a serial killer at Minnesota who killed eight girls, all had same physical appearance. It was two years ago before he was killed by another architect who was conducting an interview with him in his home studio during a fight.

Hobbs wasn’t really very famous as an architect but one of his designs, The Antlers Hunting Cabin, won a national design competition and attracted a lot of attention. He did a lot of works on private residence, hunting logs, and some parks. When Will looked at his designs, he couldn’t help but felt there’s something lurking behind the design. He could see it, Hobbs’ thought when he designed was rather sinister. He didn’t really want to write about Hobbs. It was actually a year after that when Will wrote a journal entitled ‘Space Killed’ when he really looked into Hobbs’ design.

He uncovered more than he liked to.

***

Beverly Katz wasn’t really a big photographer so searching for her on the internet was a little bit difficult. But judging from the little thing he found, she seemed like a pretty decent photographers. His phone vibrated so he quickly grabbed it. It’s a message from Jack telling him the time to meet Lecter and also Katz would come to UVa first then they would go to Baltimore together.

Great. Now he had to be social with Katz and spent hours of long drives to Baltimore.

Will sighed and continued to do his research. It’s Wednesday already, so he started working for his interview and article when he’s not teaching. Jack still wanted him to write about that gate. He spent his times waiting for his class doing research and making question lists for Friday. He stopped when he felt incredibly hungry and went to cafeteria to grab lunch and headed straight to his class. He thought he could spend a time alone in his office but his colleague dragged him into an impromptu meeting at the meeting room. For the first twenty minutes they discussed about curriculum and other serious and important stuff and then they started to discuss trivial things that bored him to death. He couldn’t even describe how glad he was when he could sneak out and returned to his office.

It was around 6 when he decided to go home. Most of his colleagues had gone home at this hour so he decided his works could wait for tomorrow. He didn’t like to bring works home and preferred to play with his dogs or made some lures. Home’s a place for rest not for work. He shut his [laptop](http://www.surfcanyon.com/search?f=slc&q=laptop&p=wtiffrwo) and shoved it to his briefcase. Then he grabbed his car keys and headed to the parking lot.

Campbell Hall was still packed with students either they were on their home or on their way back to studio to grab dinner and mid night snacks. Studio was like a second home for those students and it was understandable if some preferred to sleep in the studio especially before crit. Going home was a waste of times after all. Will decided to buy a cup of coffee before he headed to his car. He ignored students who tried to greet him and quickly exited the Campbell Hall and reached the parking lot.

 

He was near his car when he heard a girl yelled in frustration. He almost ignored the girl but then he saw a girl was shouting to a boy. The girl had her back towards him so he didn’t know who she was. The boy on the other hand, he had seen his face in some of his classes. An argument between couple? Will didn’t know and honestly didn’t really care. But they were standing in front of his car so he needed to break them apart.

“Stop your argument and just find another place to do that… You’re standing in front of my car.”

The boy looked surprised when he saw Will and his whole body went still. The girl flinched when she heard Will’s voice and he turned her body slowly to see him. Will’s eyes went wide and he’s finally facing the girl.

It’s Abigail Hobbs.

“Good evening, Professor Graham.” Abigail greeted him.

Will got the impression that Abigail was glad to see him there so he couldn’t help but asked, “Are you hurt? Is he hurting you?”

The boy was even more shocked when he heard that, “No! I didn’t hurt her, Professor Graham! We’re just talking.”

“Is everything ok?” Will ignored the boy and tried to find if there’s anything wrong with Abigail. He didn’t know where the need to protect her came from.

“Yes, we’re fine.” Abigail said shortly. A lie.Will could feel it.

“Everything’s ok, Professor. See you later.” the boy left them. But Will could feel there’s more in it. There something in the boy’s body language that screamed _‘we’re not over yet, Hobbs’_. Will shuddered at the thought and refused to look any further.

Will looked back at Abigail. She’s looking at him but she’s no longer looking like she’s angry with him, not like at the history class. She seemed more in control. But Will knew there’s something wrong with Abigail’s calmness but he didn’t know what.

“You’re Abigail Hobbs, aren’t you?” Will asked.

“Yes.” she answered.

“Do you know me?” Will asked again.

“Yes. You’re Professor Graham, substitute professor for architecture history class.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Abigail didn’t say anything for awhile. She’s just looking at him and Will could feel it again, the strong and raw emotion inside her. Something that Will didn’t know how to describe it. It’s like a hot and fiery rage that burned him from the inside. It bothered him but he needed to do this.

“You’re the man who killed my father.”

Time stopped for a moment and it reversed back to the time when Will killed Gareth Jacob Hobbs. He was once again in her father’s private studio in his home back in Minnesota, looking at the architect bleeding from the wound on his stomach. Hobbs was smirking at him, taunting him as his life slowly slipped before his fingers.

_“See?”_

Will shut his eyes closed and tried to banish the memory away. When he opened his eyes, he’s looking into Abigail’s clear blue eyes. He could see her nose flared as she tried to control her feeling.

“Yes. I killed your father.” Will said. “I’m not sorry to do that.”

“He’s trying to kill you. I understand.” Abigail said with a small nod. She paused for awhile. “How did it feel? When you killed my father?” she finally asked.

Will took a deep breath before he replied, “It’s bad. It’s just… bad and ugly.”

Abigail frowned as she tried to understand what Will was talking to her, “So killing somebody… Even if you have to do it… It feels that bad?”

Will remembered the weight of the knife and the warm of Hobbs’ blood on his hand, “It’s the ugliest thing in the world.” Will dropped his gaze on the ground beside Abigail’s [shoes](http://www.surfcanyon.com/search?f=slc&q=shoes&p=wtiffrwo).

When he’s ready to talk, he looked back at Abigail, “You were angry.”

“I didn’t understand that time. All I knew was you killed my father, the only parent I have in the world.” Abigail explained. “My mom died when I was a child. I didn’t know my father was a serial killer. He was a very loving father.”

There’s something clouding every single words Abigail said to him but Will chose to ignore it, “He was loving, I believe that. But there were plenty of wrongs in your father and he hid it well.”

“You knew it though.” Abigail said. “How?”

“I just knew.”

Silence again. Will studied the young girl in front of him. She had grown since the last time he saw her. She had grown into a lovely young lady. Shame how her beauty was tainted with the anger behind those eyes.

“You are still angry with me. May I know why?”

 

Abigail looked at him with curious eyes, “It’s true then… You’re an empath. Did you feel it when you met my father? Did you feel it that he’s a serial killer?”

“Not really like that but yes… I felt it. I knew.”

She’s scared now for unknown reason, “What do you feel now? What do you see when you look at me?”

“I see… a scared young girl that still keeps her anger on her father’s killer. You’re angry because I orphaned you and I didn’t say anything to you since then. You’re angry because your life changed so much since then. You’ve faced hardship, rejection for being a serial killer’s daughter, a cannibal. You want to find someone to blame so you blame me because in your mind, Gareth Jacob Hobbs is still a loving and warm father and not a cannibalistic serial killer.”

She seemed surprised to hear that. Will assumed what he said was right. She clearly wasn’t expecting that. After awhile, her mouth formed a forced smile, “It’s not easy to live outside my father’s shadow.”

“He wanted to kill you but he couldn’t do that. So that’s why-“

“He killed someone who looked like just like me.” Abigail finished his sentence.

“He would kill you. He would, in the end. He would reach the point when he felt it’s not enough to kill a substitute. He would kill you. You’re his golden ticket.”

“Golden ticket?” she frowned.

“His prized victim.”

Will could see her body trembled a bit as she abruptly said, “I need to go back to studio. I have deadline on Friday. See you later, Professor Graham.”

Will watched Abigail went in silence. After that he went to his car. He sat there in his car for a long time and tried to calm his nerves. He didn’t know what he’s hoping to achieve when he talked to Abigail. He didn’t know if it’s good or bad. He really didn’t know. He’s afraid the nightmare would come back now he had opened the Pandora box once again. He didn’t want to the nightmare to come. He spent almost a year to push his nightmare away.

Will grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened his contact list. He stopped at Dr. Miriam Lass’s number, his psychiatrist. He hadn’t seen her in a long time since he’s started to be more stable. He was so close to call her but he decided to put his phone back. Talking to Dr. Lass felt like he’s admitting he had problem, like he’s a freak and crazy. He didn’t like that. He’s stronger than that. He turned on the car engine and quickly drove back to his home at Wolf Trap.

***

Managing Lecter + Partners wasn’t an easy task as Hannibal had to deal with a lot of people with big egos. His firm was established for only seven years but it had reached a lot of achievement in seven years and it’s still growing. He had only 21 people including three other senior partners. He still needed more people. Finding a competent and bright architect or engineering consultant had proven to be quite a challenge and Hannibal was always careful with his choice on employee. Lecter + Partners was an international scale firm and he needed more if he wanted it to thrive.

“You really don’t have to come here, you know.”

Hannibal pushed his glasses up to his nose when he saw Jacob Lange, one of his senior partners in Lecter + Partners. He just arrived at project site for the new Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in Baltimore. The new owner wanted a new and bigger concert hall and they decided to build another concert hall and called it the new Meyerhoff. They wanted to be more ‘modernized’ and hoped it could be the new icon of Baltimore. Hannibal always had a fondness towards classical music and he was glad to accept the responsibility to design the new concert hall himself. Jacob was involved in the design process from the beginning and he was the one who was on the site to supervise the contractor during the construction phase.

“The site is not far from our firm and it’s been two months since the last time I come here. I have the right to come here and check how it has progressed.” Hannibal said. “I was told that we are doing the interior works now.”

“Well, yeah. Come, Caldwell is waiting for you.”

Hannibal accepted the white helmet Jacob gave to him and together they went into the construction site. Hannibal looked up to the new Meyerhoff Hall and checked the façade carefully and silently applauded the contractor’s good work. They stopped at the small temporary office occupied by the contractors during the construction. Inside there was already a man waiting for him. Hannibal recognized the man as Andrew Caldwell. They had met before. Hannibal didn’t really like this man. Caldwell could be careless and very stubborn.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Lecter. I’ve been wondering when you will pay us a visit again.” Caldwell said with false smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Caldwell. Will you be so kind and lead us the way?” Hannibal said with a same fake smile that looked more genuine than Caldwell’s.

The three of them then went to inspect the building. Caldwell made a brief explanation about their current work. It took about an hour for them to see all works. Hannibal had to admit they had done tremendous work in making his design came true. The inspection, as Jacob described to Caldwell, ended at the main lobby. Hannibal smiled to himself. It looked so grand and elegant just like how he imagined it. He was about to congratulate Caldwell on his good work when he spotted something on the marble floor. He came to the said spot and knelt down so he had a better view on the floor. His expression went sour for awhile to show his irritation before he regained his calm and composed façade.

“This tile doesn’t match up with the rest of the tiles.” Hannibal commented.

Jacob and Caldwell came to his side and they looked at the irritating tile. Marble was one of the most lavish and elegant flooring option. Marble floor tiles were quarried from mountain ranges in countries around the world and were available in number of different finishes, sizes, and colors. Unlike other flooring selection, every marble had its own pattern that was different from one and another. It made it beautiful and highly prized. Matching the pattern on every single tile to create a whole unity was not an easy task. Many designers or architects simply ignored the unique patterns possessed by marble and just used it without further arrangement but Hannibal wasn’t that kind of architects. Every single tile had been carefully selected from the manufacturer so it would be possible to arrange every pattern into one big picture without making them looked like a jumbled lines on the floor. Hannibal took the responsibility to choose the tiles and spent days of sleepless nights to design the lobby floor. Every tile was numbered and there was a very detailed drawing for the floor. To see this mismatched tile was making him furious.

“Ah… Yes, yes it is…” Jacob murmured to himself. He looked up to Hannibal and noticed the slightest change in his face. He cowered beside him. Even though Jacob was close to his age, the good man was a little bit afraid of him.

“Can you explain it to me, Mr. Caldwell?” Hannibal demanded.

“Ah… it is a mistake, I see…” Caldwell said. He shot him a puzzled look when he found Hannibal looking displeased. “What? It’s not really my fault. It’s the worker’s fault.”

“May I know why you let this mistake happened? I believe we have given you the detailed drawing.” Hannibal asked. Caldwell was oblivious enough to miss the fury behind his flat tone.

“Well… It’s just a small mistake, Mr. Lecter. Nothing big. No one will really pay attention to this small tile. Why don’t we forget it and go back to my office?”

Hannibal tilted his head a little bit as he narrowed his eyes, “A small mistake?”

“Mistakes do happen in our line of work. I’m sure you know about it, Mr. Lecter. Nothing’s perfect.”

Hannibal looked back at the tile and gritted his teeth. He pushed his glasses up to his nose when he felt it slid down from its place. He was very displeased with this. A small mistake was still a mistake. He didn’t like it when there’s mistake in his design.

“I want this tile to be fixed. Have your man fix the tiles.” Hannibal instructed.

“That’s not necessary! It’s just a small tile. I won’t waste my time fixing that. Time is money in my line of work, Mr. Lecter. I can’t waste my time. I don’t care if you’re top notch architect or what. That’s not necessary.” now it’s Caldwell’s turn to be furious. Hannibal failed to see the reason behind Caldwell’s sudden outburst. The man had made mistake and now he refused to fix his mistake.

Hannibal found it very rude.

“Hannibal,” Jacob finally said, “they already polished the floor. Maybe we can let it go.”

Hannibal wasn’t pleased with this but he found there’s no point to argue with Caldwell, “May I ask for your business card please. For my contacts?”

“Huh? Well… I’ll give you once we’re back at my office.” Caldwell said.

The three of them then went back to Caldwell’s office and he finally got Caldwell’s business card. Hannibal hid an amused smirk when he got it and no one notice that he already planned on what kind of dish he could make from Caldwell. It would be easier to just kill this man and dealt with the tile later. He wondered how Caldwell’s liver would taste.

After spending more times discussing some problems with Jacob, Hannibal headed to his car. He took his glasses off and cleaned the lenses before he put it back at the bridge of his nose. Then his phone rang from his suit pocket. It was from Jack Crawford.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Crawford. What can I do for you?” Hannibal greeted him.

“Will has class in the morning so 1 PM sounds good for you?” Jack asked.

“1 PM is good.” Hannibal answered. “I’m wondering why Will Graham hasn’t contacted me yet. It is him who will conduct the interview not you.”

“Well,” Jack chuckled a bit, “he’s a busy man, Mr. Lecter. You know… classes, students, researches…”

“Yes, you have informed. The life an academic is of course very busy and has its own challenge.” Hannibal said, “So it has nothing to do with his problem at being social?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know he’s not really a social person. Especially after what happened with Gareth Jacob Hobbs two years ago.” Hannibal had done a further research on Will Graham and found very interesting facts on that man.

Jack sighed, “Well… It’s true. Killing that bastard has done a great damage on Will.”

“Killing someone is not a pleasant thing. Some find it devastating, some find it ugly.”

“Well not everyone. Hobbs was a psycho.” Jack told him.

“I read that Will Graham has a pure empathy and many psychologists want to conduct a further study on him.” Hannibal said.

“And a very hell of imagination. That’s what makes his critic so strong and real. He can understand most people easily.”

“Exposure to violence for people like Graham can cause a great deal of problem.”

“I’m quite friendly with Will’s psychiatrist, Dr. Lass. She is a friend of my wife. She told me that Will has gone through a very hard time dealing with the… uh… feeling of ending Hobbs’ life. But he’s better now. Don’t worry.”

“I see…” Hannibal mused.

“Just don’t ask about it to him, Mr. Lecter. It would upset him.”

“I don’t see the reason to do such thing.” Hannibal said. “Well… is there anything else?”

“That is all. Good afternoon, Mr. Lecter.”

Jack then hung up the phone. Hannibal put his phone back to his pocket and allowed himself to enjoy the small satisfaction at the thought of finally meeting Will Graham. Pure empathy. Hannibal wasn’t a psychologist but he always found human mind to be very enchanting. Pure empathy wasn’t a thing he could find at daily basis. It’s such a rare gift to be able to feel another people’s emotion like that. Hannibal couldn’t help but wonder how Will Graham could use his gift to uncover Gareth Jacob Hobbs. How far he saw?

Hannibal turned on the car engine and drove his way back to his firm. He still had a lot of things to do. He had to prepare himself to meet Will Graham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, Hobbs didn’t try to kill Abigail so Abigail doesn’t have wound on her neck. She’s a little bit different from Abigail we saw in the series as she lived a different life than her. I promise Will and Hannibal will properly meet in the next chapter and we will meet another old face from the series  
> Thanks for everyone who bookmarked, left kudos, and commented :)

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t think it would be this hard to write something about architecture. All designs by Hannibal and Marissa were fictional and I made it as I typed so no pics sorry. This fic wouldn’t be focused too much on design (it’s not my strongest point actually .__.). I hope I do this fic justice and don’t cause too much confusion since there’s not much architecture oriented fic. Additional notes:  
> 1\. ABC of Architecture by James F. O'Gorman, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1998  
> 2\. The crit comments discussed between Will and Alana are real comments, I forgot where I saw it though, sorry  
> 3\. Norman Foster is the architect who designed the Gherkin building in London  
> 4\. Le Corbusier is the icon of modern architecture and [his glasses were a legend. ](http://tinypic.com/r/jpzdj7/5)


End file.
